


all our gay skills filling playbills

by orphan_account



Series: broadway, here i come [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Broadway AU, F/M, M/M, Musical Theatre AU, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title is taken from a song from the musical [title of show].</p><p>That AU where Harry is one-half of a songwriting team. Louis Tomlinson is his better half. Haz writes lyrics, Lou writes melodies and eventually it all works out.</p><p>Zayn Malik is a pretentious pop-singer, but who isn't these days? </p><p>Liam Payne might have written the entire script on his own, but he also may have had help from a dirt-poor roommate. Who's to say?</p><p>Niall Horan is suddenly a Broadway producer with no experience and a family name to live up to.</p><p>If it all works out, they might even win a Tony award or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What if our show won a Tony? What if our show won a Tony award?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@hedgehoglouis](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40hedgehoglouis).



> Kind of written spur of the moment for a friend and mostly myself because wow musicals.
> 
> Totally playing up the little!Louis thing because twitter user @hedgehoglouis loves it and I love her. xoxo (Well, I attempted.)
> 
> Enjoy! :-*
> 
> Chapter title and fic title both from the Broadway musical "[title of show]" which I suggest checking out.
> 
> EDIT: The first couple chapters are a lot of explanation and not much action, but I have everything planned out so it will be a-okay and things will happen shortly. :)

THE ART OF PICKING A THEATRE  


By Harry Styles (Footnotes by Louis Tomlinson)  


1\. Sorry, Niall, but we’re not letting you just pick the next open theatre for our show. You’d probably pick the St. James Theatre because it’s near that pizza shop you like and suddenly we’re spending the next three months trying to live up Stephen Sondheim and the Who. _(Stephen Sondheim’s a famous composer. The Who is a rock band.)_ He probably knows that, Louis. _(He’s uncultured.)_  


2\. That wasn’t a rule. This one is. We can’t pick a theatre owned by the Shubert Organization, because when our musical hits Broadway we want those fancy cups for people to keep as souvenirs. Shubert doesn’t do that. _(But Shubert Theatres are like… Phantom of the Opera and Chicago and Next to Normal!)_ But cups.  


3\. If a theatre has had more than three hit musicals running there within the last twenty years, we can’t use it. Critics will be all over us before we even open. _(It’s hard enough that our producer – you - has no experience with musical theatre.)_  


4\. The closer to Times Square, the better.  


5\. Remember we can’t be too picky about this. Whatever is open, is open. _(Um, Harry?)_ It’s not being picky if you’re having standards, Lou.  


6\. If Zayn Malik wants to stick his big pretentious nose in this too, you are to tell him “NO.” He’s an actor, not this show’s producer. _(Harry, Niall’s the producer. Not you.)_ At least I know what I’m talking about. Malik had a Top 40 hit three years ago and now he’s on Broadway? Yeah, right. This show’s going downhill fast.  


7\. Liam may have written the script, but he also doesn’t know anything about the theatres of Broadway, so don’t even let him see the list of available spots. He’d probably mispronounce half the names anyway. _(You didn’t stop mispronouncing ‘Nederlander’ until this year, Haz.)_ …Well, thanks for teaching me.  


\------ 

Niall gently set down the paper in front of him, then folded his arms across the desk. Inhale and…. He dropped his head onto his forearms, sighing loudly. The note from his lyricist and composer might as well have been Greek for all he understood of it. Shit, he was the son of two of the most widely known West End producers and he couldn’t even tell you the difference between a talent agent and a casting director.  


He was only here because Harry Styles obsessively stalks the BroadwayWorld forums. Niall’s mom had passed away several months ago and his dad told him he had to get a job. Support himself. He was ‘nearly thirty and still living off your parent’s fame.’ Greg, his brother, had gotten the better part of the deal. That is, Greg had left for university in America immediately after graduation and was living successfully outside Manhattan. (Niall knew the apartments there were worth millions and working as an architect didn’t make you that much money. That meant Papa Horan was still pouring money into Greg’s bank account, yet left Niall to scrounge on his own.)  


So Niall called up Greg and Greg offered him a place at his apartment until he could get a job and get on his feet. To Niall, this meant ‘you can stay here and live off Dad’s money with me until I kick you out.’  


That brings us to Harry fucking Styles. Niall loved the guy, he did. But he was taking the blame for what was really Niall’s own problem. Niall would spend a couple nights each week at a bar downtown where the other Irish foreigners would chill (the drinks and people were both genuine; what wasn’t to love). It turned out that Harry, his favorite bartender, was actually one-half of a songwriting team trying to make it big time on Broadway. _(“Get in line, kid.”)_  


Here’s the thing about Harry Styles: He may not be the best bartender, but he’s probably the best friend you’ll ever find. Just ask his perpetual-shadow and partner Louis Tomlinson.  


Harry would spend his off-time scanning through news on local producers and the big names over in England, where he was from. Turns out, Niall had made himself a big name when he ‘fleed to America to hide from his father’s success.’ Niall had snorted at the headline. Harry recognized his picture and the next time that the younger Horan had shown up in the bar, he’d pitched his idea to Niall, explaining the musical he’d been writing with Louis and a third friend, Liam Payne.  


Niall thought it sounded great! He was also a bit drunk and forgetful of the fact that he had no experience with this type of thing. And that no one really knew who Styles & Tomlinson were outside of the rest of the 8 PM to 2 AM shift at O’Malley’s.  


Two weeks later, he was in a workshop with several bum actors, a partially completed script, two hopeful songwriters, and a sensitive playwright.  


But things got rolling and people took notice. How could they not with the Horan name attached to the project? Zayn Malik’s name cropped up in a couple auditions. _(“He sounded like that one pop singer, kinda.” “Uh… Grimshaw? Malik?” “Yeah! Zayn Malik….Think we could call him in?”)_  


Bobby Horan knew Malik’s manager, so, yeah, they could call him in. His acting needed brushing up and his voice wasn’t classic enough for what they were going for, but it was a start. They could work on that, an ego can be deflated. His image was what was needed.  


And now Niall’s sitting in a new apartment of his own (his dad finally gave him and offered him some starter-cash that he gladly took), folded over a desk that holds an instruction guide for picking a theatre and a cellphone with four missed calls from Liam Payne, two texts from Louis, and a missed FaceTime from Harry. As if Niall would want to see his mug (Niall did actually; he wanted to know how to pronounce ‘Nederlander’).  


But it was 11:40 AM and Niall had a seven-thirty-in-the-morning callback for the role of Malik’s love interest so he turned off his phone, turned off his light, and crawled into the bed three feet away from his front door and desk.  


Starter-money doesn’t buy you a lot of space on the Great White Way.  


(He’d recently learned that ‘Great White Way’ was just a grandiose way of saying: ‘Broadway.’)  


\------ 

Harry and Louis had shared an apartment for seven years now. New York City wasn’t a cheap place to live and the Bronx still required you to get a roommate if you wanted anything more than a brown cardboard box.  


This being said, Harry Styles still wasn’t used to all the quirky ways of little Louis Tomlinson. Like the way that Lou would get up at 3 AM and dig out the keyboard because inspiration had hit! but forget to plug his headphones into the jack so Harry was forced to put up for fifteen minutes of repeated Cs and A#s, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to get up just to yell at his best friend to be quiet. Besides, he liked the way Louis would play the old songs they’d written together, but forgotten about to chase after new things.  


New things like what he and Lou called The Project. Their musical was catching on. They had fans and twitter account impersonators and someone interested in putting on their show and being in their show and _holy crap there is going to be a show._  


Sometimes it just hit him like that. He’s pouring coffee for himself and Louis and suddenly _WE’RE GOING TO BROADWAY._ They could get a Tony. They will get a theatre. They will know stars. He can meet Adam Chanler-Berat and Adam Pascal and Santino Fontana and then Bernadette Peters and Patti Lupone might come see their show. They might come love their show.  


Or they might not. They might think that their show is derivative. The critics might say that Louis’s songs are rip-offs of Stephen Schwartz’s mellow harmonies. Maybe Harry Style’s lyrics are using too many phrases pulled from Shakespearean sonnets that the novel idea loses its luster. Liam’s dialogue might be stiff and…  


And their story will just be a cheap rip-off of ‘bare’ or ‘Is there life after high school?’ or a modernized ‘Hairspray’ and what if what if what if  


_“Harry!”_  


He jerked his head up from where he’d been staring into the warm brown curls of milk in his coffee to where Louis was standing in the doorway to their kitchenette, dragging a keyboard that looked almost the size of him. Louis smiled lightly. “We’re gonna be fine, Haz. We can do this and if not, well, we can try again. I mean, right?”  


Louis’s voice faltered for a second, but Harry just smiled back, pretending not to notice. “Yeah. We’re gonna be stars, Lou.”  


“Tony-winners, even!”  


Harry took a long sip of coffee and calmed himself down. “As long as Niall picks a theatre, right?”  


“Shut it, we all know you already have one picked out. Come help me lift this keyboard to the car.” Louis grumbled from the doorway, totally right in his guess that Harry had a theatre picked out. And it would look lovely with their marquee reading out ‘Styles & Tomlinson’ from underneath their title.  


TONGUE-TIED. Book by Liam Payne. Lyrics by Harry Styles. Music by Louis Tomlinson.  


Starring actual dumb-fuck Zayn Malik. And whoever they cast in (he glanced down at his watch)… thirty minutes.  


“Shit!” Harry dropped the coffee down the sink, grabbed the keyboard completely from Louis’s hands, and tore down the stairs to call a taxi. Louis would meet him down with his laptop and they’d meet the rest of the creative team only ten minutes late.  


And yeah, Harry let himself imagine them for a moment, standing in Radio City Music Hall holding the Tony award for Best Music. Styles and Tomlinson are at it again.  


Time to take Broadway.


	2. I've got a singular impression things are moving too fast. /// Stuck in a role where I am playing me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First chapter title from "The Last 5 Years." Second chapter title from "[title of show]."
> 
> The female lead is cast and Harry has a date. Liam meets Zayn.

The callbacks for the role of Laurie were long and almost needless. Harry, Liam, and Niall still agreed on Leigh-Anne Pinnock and though Louis thought a young aspiring girl with the name Perrie Edwards should be cast, it seemed she would be Leigh-Anne’s understudy. They cleared out of the hot audition room, Niall already pulling out his cellphone to tell the girls the good news. Liam slipped a pair of sunglasses on and gave them a nod, leaving for his meeting with Zayn Malik to talk about emotional responses to the script or… whatever. Louis and Harry were left to make sure the space was clean for the next person. The shorter of the two expected to go out for coffee as had become a pattern, but Harry seemed to have other plans. 

“So, when I get back later do you want me to bring dinner? Chinese?” he asked, piling up the headshots of the girls they’d had to turn down. 

Louis’s head snapped up from where he’d been watching his fingers stretch across the keys, trying desperately to reach an octave, but falling short. “We’re not going back together?” 

Harry slowly dragged his head up, feeling guilty, but unsure why. “I’m… meeting someone. I thought I told you?” 

Louis shook his head, looking down again. Of course he was meeting someone. They’d had auditions two days ago for the minor male characters. Why wouldn’t a handsome, tall guy like Harry find someone to go on a date with? For a brief second it crossed Louis’s mind that the person was just hoping for a role. Louis wouldn’t do that to Harry. Years of friendship meant more to him than a Broadway show, but Harry would never know that. It was all about the future and moving forward to him. So Louis stood two steps back and wrote the melodies and smiled at each new boyfriend, too shy and too nervous to ever say anything to his best friend about how he feels. 

“Well. Sorry,” Harry said with a shrug. It was short, but he seemed earnest so Louis let it go. Harry was grabbing his bag and nearly out the door, pausing to glance back at the heavy keyboard Louis would have to get back to the apartment. 

“I can get it,” Louis whispered quietly. He knew he couldn’t lift the thing, but Harry had to leave. He’d be late. Late for his date. Without Louis. “And Chinese sounds great.” 

Harry waved as he finished his way out of the door. He called down the hallway a short “text me your order!” and Lou was left alone in a suddenly-large room with his too small hands and too big keyboard and useless feelings. 

Were things moving too fast? Eight months ago he was working as a waiter and playing piano at weddings. Then Niall Horan stumbled into Harry’s life with his drunken Irish ways and famous Daddy and Styles was star-struck. Louis told him the kid knew nothing, but Harry insisted. Liam Payne was on-board, tired of waiting for his artwork to see the light of day. Liam could be so patient except when it was important, because they now had an experience-less man-child at the helm of the ship that was “Tongue-Tied.” So they had a short off-Broadway run with some unknowns that didn’t get a lot of attention, but just enough to have critics insist on their Broadway debut. 

They recast everyone, a decision that Niall had made due to the poor reviews of their original members. Louis thought they just needed to work harder, have more rehearsal time and a new director, but no. The cast left, Liam kept directing, and now Louis would have to deal with a superstar with a bad reputation and Harry’s obsession with finding the perfect Broadway theatre. 

It was too fast for him. He was still the young boy who had hidden his interest in the thespian world, because bullies were a thing and he was the thing they bullied. Too much could go wrong. Too many people already resented their show. But Harry plowed on; Harry had confidence. Harry had Louis. 

If he wanted to. And wasn’t that the problem? Harry didn’t want Louis or he would have said so years ago. That’s the way Harry is. 

And Louis gets left in an empty audition room, stretching his fingers to reach the C5 key that’s out of his grasp. When the warm tear finally broke from his eye, tracing down his pink cheeks, he gave up, covering his face with those tiny hands. 

_Too fast._

\-- 

Zayn Malik had a reputation, because reputations sold albums. Not because he wanted it. His manager was still angry about his decision to go to Broadway, but that’s what he’s always wanted and he hadn’t been on the top for two years now. He might not be allowed to change his image, but he can at least live the dream he’d originally had, all those years ago back home. 

He resented the dark sunglasses he had to wear _inside_ while waiting for the young man who had written the amazing story he’d be performing. Hopefully. If they wanted to keep him. The leather jacket made uncomfortably loud squeaking noises as he shifted in his seat at the Starbucks and his jeans were just a hair too small in his opinion. 

He saw the head he recognized as Liam Payne’s peak in through the door of the café and waved his hand to signal the playwright over. Liam smiled stiffly, carrying an accordion folder with him and eyeing up the bodyguard that Zayn was required to keep with him. Zayn sipped his coffee as Liam navigated the heavy New York City crowd and made his way over to the empty seat. 

“Hello, Mr. Malik, I’m-” 

“Just Zayn,” he said with a smile that earned him a scowl from his manager. Whatever. 

“Uh, yeah, Zayn. I’m Liam Payne and I have a newer, slightly edited version of the script with me-” he patted his folder “-that I’d like for you to glance at while I go get coffee real quick. If that’s okay? Oh! And we cast your love interest this morning.” Liam wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was slightly nervous. Apparently this guy can be a real asshole when pushed. 

But Zayn just nodded in agreement, pulling the folder over to himself and pulling out the contents. Liam bit back a wince when he noticed the green and red ink marks spread all over the margins. Damn them. Damn Harry and Louis. 

Liam pretended he didn’t notice the ink yet – god, he really needed some coffee – and made his way over to where the barista was taking orders, skimming through the twitters of Brian Yorkey and Harvey Fierstein. One day his name would be tossed around with the likes of those writers. He just had to wait, but he was almost there. It was coming true and Louis and Harry would be right along with him. 

Back at the table, Zayn was holding back chuckles at the notes in the margins. He assumed one of them had to be Liam, but the other? A girlfriend maybe? There was a flirty undertone to every back-and-forth. He tried to focus on what changes had been made to his character, Cameron’s lines. The work was so… honest. Would he be able to do it? More importantly, would people be able to separate his image from the role he was playing? Cameron was so guarded in his interactions with every other character, but on his own, in a monologue or soliloquizing song, he was rich and complete and flawed in every right way. 

He probably sounded like the egotistic jerk everyone thinks he is. In love with the character he’s supposed to be. A new monologue had been added before the closing song of Act 1 and he had gotten so absorbed, missing when Liam sat back down across from him. 

The lighter-haired man cleared his voice. “Any questions?” 

Zayn looked up at him, a subdued smile on his face. “Only a couple. The notes in the margin?” 

Liam pretended to have to glance at the stapled papers to know what he meant. “Dammit! That’s our songwriting team. Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. They tend to write notes to each other on everything. Just ask the producer. You’ve met Niall?” 

“I met Niall’s dad. Are your songwriters dating?” 

Liam let out a scoff. “Not yet.” 

Zayn nodded, pretending to know about the secret friendships of the “Tongue-Tied” creative team. They seemed like a close group, a good group, and hopefully he’d be able to fit in with the rest of them. Lose the record label and just be the man. 

He guesses that’s all he’s really wanted. Cameron seems to want the same thing. Lose the letterman jacket and heart-breaker reputation. Just be the student worried about not making it in the real world. The characters that seem the most real are those that are reflections of your own self, Zayn had once heard. 

He tossed one last blinding grin at Liam before getting back to business. “So in this scene does Cameron know that Samuel has feelings…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New twitter handle: @jenndamianos
> 
> Tumblr: katherineplumberpulitzer.tumblr.com
> 
> Also on twitter as a directioner account with @piano_ziam :)
> 
> Comments loved and appreciated!


	3. My mind is somewhere hazy, my feet are on the ground.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "I Miss the Mountains" from one of my top five musicals: Next to Normal.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Niall meets another producer. Louis and Harry have dinner. Liam panicks. Critics' reviews have been published.

_"I'm not trying to make you a wife here! I'm not trying to tie you down..."_

Niall had never felt so out-of-place in a bar. The man on the stage (apparently a big-wig; he was to play the lead in another new musical coming to Broadway this season) barely strained to hit the high-notes in a song that his neighbor at the bar said was from "The Unauthorized Biography of Sam B." Niall didn't recognize the show title, let alone the song. The singer finished up to a loud round of applause that Niall half-heartedly contributed to. The man was competition as far as Niall knew. 

The singer began to tell a short anecdote chronicling his time in college. Niall ordered another beer, preparing himself for another drinking game (take a shot every time you hear "so blessed"; down the whole glass for fake throat-clearing). Niall's eyes traced over the full room. He guessed he'd been lucky to be offered the last ticket, but it would be better appreciated in Louis's hands or even his father's. The sign in front of the door read the singer's name in fanciful script over a rather serious headshot. Apparently Niall still had an hour of classic theatre songs and previously-played roles by the man to look forward to. 

An older gentleman - at least he looked older, but there wasn't a gray hair on his head - came to the bar and slid into the seat next to Niall. "Enjoying the show?" 

"He's... very talented." Where was Harry when you needed him? Niall was about to make a fool of himself and their musical. 

"I heard Zayn Malik's range is broader," his neighbor said with a wink. 

"He..." Niall had no idea what to say to that. Clearly the stranger knew him and about his show. Thankfully the man took pity. 

"I'm Simon Cowell. Producer of the Brokeback Mountain musical. I saw your show a few months ago." 

"Oh. Thank you?" 

"Heard you're recasting everything for the Broadway debut. How's that going?" Mr. Cowell raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Um. It's going good. Well. It- why?" Niall shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took another gulp of his beer. 

"Just wondering. Getting a big name like Malik... You'll probably do well commercially for the first couple months. You think the show can make it long-term?" 

"Of course." A lie. Not that Liam couldn't write a story and not that the songs were bad, but his team had done everything wrong. They were all too new to the game to do this. But Niall would plow on, just in case. "I... have faith in my team." 

"Team? Risky word choice. What if you're their competitor five years from now?" What was this guy playing at? 

"I guess we'll see. But for now we're a team." Him and Louis and Harry and Liam. And Zayn, he supposed. Leigh-Anne, maybe. 

Mr. Cowell nodded, taking a long sip of his own drink. "You're all very young. Congratulations. And if you ever need help, don't be afraid to ask." He made a movement as if to stand up. 

"Wait, Mr. Cowe-" 

"Simon." 

"Uh, yeah. Simon. Could you, um, answer a few questions now, actually?" Niall did want to prove something to his family about doing this on his own, but this guy knew how to fill a theatre. It would be worth it. He wouldn't mention anything to Harry and Louis just yet (god knows how they'd react). 

Simon smiled at him. "Of course. I'm assuming Mr. Malik is at the top of your concern list right now?" 

Niall bit his lip. "Er, kind of. But also... our director. Liam. He..." 

"Ah. Right." 

Niall gave a helpless shrug, waiting for Simon to give him the keys to the trade, but he'd be in it for the long game. Famous producers don't just give out their secrets. Niall would have to earn it. 

\------- 

Louis twirled some noodles around his chopsticks in the Chinese take-out container, lifting them to his mouth, and, losing his appetite, he lowered his utensils back into the container. He repeated the cycle as Harry blathered on about his date, mostly complaints. "The guy wanted to just talk about the show..." "He didn't even dress that nice..." "We've all heard of deodorant, right?" Louis laughed where needed and nodded along to each retelling of the event. He wasn't really listening. He'd stopped after Harry basically confirmed the guy was only there to get close to the music writing team of a Broadway show. 

"Do you know how Liam's meeting with Malik went?" Louis's head drifted up. Harry had addressed him specifically. What did he ask...? 

"Uh..." Harry was waiting expectantly. "What did you say?" 

Harry let out a snort. "Sorry, I'd been rambling. I wouldn't listen to me either. I asked if you'd talked to Liam at all." 

He hadn't _talked_ to Liam, but Louis did have a few texts awaiting a reply on his slowly dying cell phone. That had been his excuse. _'I'll reply when it's charged.'_ Louis honestly just wasn't in the mood for talking, even if Harry constantly was. 

"My phone died, but he did send a couple texts. Liam thinks the guy can handle it, at least, acting-wise. But he still seems like an asshole to me." 

Harry smiled again and Louis offered a small one in return. "I'm all about giving people a chance, but was he honestly the best we could do?" 

Louis shook his head. "You know he's not. But Niall and his dad think its the way to go." 

Harry shoved an egg roll into his mouth and contemplated. "Even if Malik's only here for a couple weeks after preview shows, that's enough to get us recognized. Then we bring in the big names." 

Louis set down his food container, shoving it across the table to the eagerly awaiting brunet. "Doubt we're gonna get a big name unless we get them to do the cast recording and it's in Zayn's contract that he's doing that." 

"Unless he breaks his contract," Harry suggested hopefully. 

"Harry, what's he gonna do? Armed robbery? Kill someone? He's being paid ten thousand a show." 

Harry gave a small smirk. "He's a bad boy. I can remain hopeful." 

Louis was just tired. "It's an image. You're being an idiot." He got up slowly from the couch and tossed a quick "Seeya in the mornin'..." over his shoulder. 

Harry gently placed Louis's now half-finished lo main box on the small table and quickly recounted their conversation. Did he say something wrong? 

His phone gave a short vibrate on the couch beside him. 

NIALL HORAN 

_Creative team mtg tomorrow 4 pm. Im bringing a guest._

Suddenly too exhausted to think about it, Harry got up to put the food in the fridge and make his way to his own small bedroom. He'd probably be lying awake for a little while, typing out some lyric changes on his Notes app or going through old Facebook and MySpace photos of him and Louis. He'd been doing that a lot lately. The past was a darker time for Lou, he knew, but the older's smile had never been brighter. They'd been a bit co-dependent back then, never dangerously, just... together. Harry knew he was reaching away now, not on purpose. He just had new friends, like Louis did. Was the difference that Lou would be leaving him soon? 

He wanted to believe he was being paranoid, but Louis had gotten a call from a real estate agent operating in Manhattan. Lou had been in the shower and shouted for Harry to answer his cell phone, like always, but the woman's voice on the other end was very adamant about speaking to Louis. She wanted to know if he was still interested in that one-bedroom apartment. 

Harry fidgeted under his sheets at the thought. One-bedroom. Also known as 'without him.' 

\------ 

Liam gently opened up the door to his shared apartment, praying his roommate wouldn't wake up. That is, if she were asleep. The girl was a night owl and to be honest, some of her activities worried Liam, but he wouldn't dictate her life. Not after she'd saved his skin. 

The lights were still on the living room and he ran a hand over his face. He'd probably have to talk about his meeting with Zayn, but Niall had already grilled him for all the details and he didn't want to recount the whole thing again. 

Liam shoved off his shoes, not bothering with the laces. He hadn't sleep well last night thanks to his roommate's partying, but it was only 6 at night. He shouldn't feel this tired. 

He made his way across the living room and peeked a head into her room. Brown hair was splayed across the pillow and he could hear gentle snoring. Good. He could get a nap until she woke in an hour for work. Having a roommate with a graveyard shift bites, but he needed the girl and regardless of her less-than-desirable characteristics, she's a friend. 

Liam navigated across the messy floorspace to his own room, not even bothering to change before he collapsed on the bed. This wasn't okay. He had work to do, during the _daytime_ , but he wasn't about to tell off the girl next door for living her life. Liam was supposed to be the responsible one and he was! Around everyone else. With her... It was different. She helped him. He helped her. She could do what she wanted. As far as he was concerned, she'd paid her rent, even if not in the official capacity. 

God, he made her sound like some sort of hooker. Maybe Liam was too ashamed to admit to himself what he fucked up. But if the story got out... It might destroy Louis and Harry's chances and he wouldn't do that. The scandal wouldn't hurt the actors and Niall had his dad's protection, but... Those two boys had worked too hard for Liam to mess up what they'd done. 

He didn't drift off to sleep; more like jump off a cliff into an abyss of nightmares, all of which ended up with him with a cheap lawyer and one or both of the Styles & Tomlinson team dead. He didn't really know how that scenario came about since his actions weren't that drastic, but the point still stood. 

He was startled awake by a loud knocking on his door. "Liam? Are you awake?" 

He groaned and pushed himself off the pillow, needing a moment to adjust. He'd been deeply asleep. Where was he? Was it morning already? 

"Liam?" 

He wiped the sweat from his brow and began a reply. "I-" His voice broke. Swallow. Cough. "Now I am. You going out?" 

A quick laugh. "Sorry for waking you. I'm going to work. Might stay over at Kelli's. Wanted to make sure you knew." 

Liam was slowly making his way across to the door, opening it to his roommate's smiling face. "Just keep your phone charged this time? I gotta meeting with a graphic designer at nine am, so I won't be here when you get back." 

Her smile had slipped a little bit while he spoke. "Hon, you look like the dead. Did the meeting go well?" 

Liam gave a shrug. "As well as can be with a paranoid popstar. You're gonna be late for work, though," he said, slowly shoving her towards the door. 

"Okay, Liam, I'm going. But..." She paused. "Seriously, if you ever need me out of the apartment or just a quiet night in or whatever, please tell me. Okay?" 

He smiled at her and reached in for a tight hug. "Okay." He would never do that, but the thought lent him a bit of comfort. "I'll see ya tomorrow night, El." 

Eleanor kissed his cheek before disappearing out of their apartment, the chaos in his head going with her. He could sleep now. Everything was gonna happen just like it should happen. Fate was on Liam's side today, he just knew it. 

\----- 

_"Captivating and honest... One for the times."_ -broadwayworld.com 

_"Sure to be a hit... an instant classic suggests some critics."_ -broadway.com 

_"What's not to love?"_ -Theatre Journal 

_"A train wreck. A disaster. Better grow some thick skin and tell your writers to do the same."_ -Bobby Horan 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @jenndamianos and @ziampianos
> 
> tumblr: katherineplumberpulitzer.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments loved and appreciated :) Please feel free to point out grammatical errors or typos. Also, I apologize for the long wait: Life got ahead of me. If it happens again, I will hopefully be published small vignettes set in the same series, so look out for those. Thank you! <3 xoxo


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